Well-Pirate Exam
by ListerOfTardis
Summary: Killian gets a physical, mostly for Emma's peace of mind, but he doesn't know what he's in for. It does go into detail, but nothing too unrealistic. Cute Captain Swan interactions and Killian-vs-the-modern-world.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I did tag it as H/C because of the vulnerability one can feel at the doctor's office, and discomfort from certain procedures. But if you're looking for serious whump, you're going to be disappointed; sorry!**

Emma remembered just as he reached over her shoulder to snag one of her orange slices. She gently slapped his hand, then grabbed it and planted a kiss on his palm. "You can't, remember? You're having bloodwork today."

"Aye, love; what of it?"

"You're supposed to fast for eight hours beforehand."

Killian gave a teasing pout. "I have to bloody starve myself, is that it, Swan?"

"You were there when I was on the phone with the receptionist. Didn't you hear that part?"

"My mind may have been… elsewhere," he smirked, and she rolled her eyes. He bent down and rested his chin on her shoulder, continuing softly into her ear. "What I mean to say is that I was entranced by my stunningly beautiful wife and the manner in which she was showing her concern for my well-being. And her talking phone was in quite the enviable position."

He returned her kiss with one of his own; just the smallest of touches on her earlobe. She grinned and tried not to show how much his breath was tickling her neck.

"I just want to be sure you're healthy," she told him, reaching up and brushing absently at the hair on his temple. He raised that eyebrow of his.

"I should think that after this many nights… and mornings… and quick stolen moments throughout the long days… that my new bride would be quite satisfied in that regard."

She watched his eyes wander over her greedily, but for once, didn't rise to the bait.

"I just… after all we've been through; all it took to get us here… I can't lose you, Killian."

Responding to her somber tone, Killian straightened, snagged the nearest chair with his hook, and dragged it next to hers. As he sat, he ran his fingers through her hair. "I know, love."

"Without really knowing any of your family's medical history, how do we know you won't drop dead from a heart attack at 40?"

He couldn't resist. "Or 340, as the case may be?"

She smiled, but only briefly. "I doubt I'd be able to make a second successful voyage to the Underworld. I would try… I would _damn_ well try, but…"

He didn't think it was quite the right time to bring up the fact that he would likely bypass the Underworld the next time around. "Thank you, Emma. You must know I would do the same… because I _feel_ the same. So you don't have to keep trying to convince me. I will do whatever it takes to reassure you that I will be around far longer than you fear. Even if it means starving myself for a week, or allowing some charlatan to stick me full of his damn needles and drain half my blood."

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Only up to half?"

He leaned back, his cocky smile lighting up the room. "Well, a man needs _some_ blood for certain… strenuous activities."

She groaned a giggle, then got back to business. "I tried to find a doctor you'd like. This one specializes in men's health."

"What, that bloody Whale wasn't available?"

"He's an E.R. doc; I don't think he does primary care."

"Ah, well there's a relief."

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I had to stay within Storybrooke, obviously; they'll want to know your history, and I don't think anyone outside the town line would believe it! But this guy seems to keep to himself mostly, which I thought would be a plus. It can be kind of awkward to make small talk around town with someone who's seen you naked."

He smirked, and she quickly amended,

"Naked for _that_ reason."

"I have nothing to be ashamed of, as you well know."

"All right, Hook; I should have remembered your inflated ego when considering all of this."

He gave her a genuine smile. "I appreciate the concern, love." Then he sat back and began fiddling with his hook. "Although what gave you the idea I would prefer to see a male physician? Perhaps I would be more comfortable with a female."

From the look in his eyes, she knew he was teasing. So she responded in kind. "Maybe it's _my_ comfort I was thinking about. No woman gets to see you without clothes on except me."

"Fair point, love." He glanced at the clock on the microwave, then sighed. "Well, if you're quite done tormenting me with the breakfast I'm apparently not allowed, shouldn't you be heading to the sheriff's station in the near future? The sheriff shouldn't be late, especially when down one deputy for part of the morning."

She smiled at him shyly. "I'm taking the morning off."

He looked taken aback. "My Swan is playing hooky?"

She couldn't help chuckling. "Where on earth did you learn that expression?"

"Henry. I quite like it."

"You manage to make it sound so dirty."

"Innuendo is my specialty." He leaned forward and pulled her face towards his, and she allowed several moments of passionate kissing before pulling away. "Oh, Swan, you may play hooky whenever and wherever you like."

Smiling madly, all she could come up with was "Oh yeah?"

Killian watched her with his beautiful, maddening smirk. But he seemed to be waiting for her to take the lead, so she forced herself back on track. Because off-track would inevitably take them back to the bedroom… or somewhere not quite that far away. She sighed.

"I thought I would come with you. To your appointment. I know how much waiting rooms suck, and I thought you could use a hand with the paperwork."

Choosing to ignore the well-worn joke, and briefly wondering about the usage of the term "paperwork" in this context as opposed to filling out crime reports, Killian gave her a look of pure gratitude. "Is that a fact? You would give up your morning's work for that?"

"I mean, yeah! If you want me to."

"Indeed I do. But whatever will Storybrooke do without its sheriff?"

"It'll wait a couple hours. Or someone else will do the saving for once."

His grin fell, just a fraction, and she could tell he was only half joking when he said,

"That sounds like tempting fate, love."

She shrugged. "Maybe so." She stood, and he quickly followed suit. "Well, if it was, it's too late now. So. Can I trust you alone down here while I take a quick shower?"

"Of course. In fact, I will clear it all away so I'm not tempted."

She looked down at the remnants of her breakfast, feeling guilty. "You don't have to do that."

"Nonsense. It's a fair trade for your assistance and companionship later."

Emma pulled him into a hug and kiss, then began to head upstairs.

"Unless, of course, you'd prefer some company yourself?" he called after her. She half-turned with a regretful grimace.

"Normally… but I don't think there's time for that today."

He cocked his head in confusion. "It's only a quarter past eight, and the appointment isn't until nine."

"Yeah, but they want you there a little bit early for that paperwork I mentioned. And I have a feeling that detailing your history might take slightly longer than average."


	2. Chapter 2

Emma was able to resist Killian's temptations - more than once- and with the assistance of magical hair-drying, she was able to "poof" them to the clinic's front door by 8:35. Wearing his best gentlemanly smile, Killian held the door for her and then followed her inside. As Emma marched straight to the front desk, he took in the grassland murals covering the walls of the waiting room. Exotic creatures with wild markings cavorted among slender trees and a pond, all in the shadow of a giant purple mountain crowned with wispy clouds.

The man seated behind the desk gave them a bright, toothy smile. "Good morning! I'm Wilbur. What can I do for you today?"

"Killian Jones, to see Dr. Taymor," Emma replied.

The receptionist checked something on his computer box and nodded. "Yes, I've got you right here. Thank you for being early!" When he grinned, his eyes all but disappeared behind ample cheeks. He had his dark curls cropped close to his scalp, except for one longer strip that ran down the center, from his forehead to the nape of his neck. Unusual, but it suited him somehow.

Wilbur pulled a thin plank of wood from beside his desk. Killian recognized it as a "clipboard." Under the clip the receptionist attached a stack of papers. Dangling from a chain was one of this realm's most practical inventions: a self-inking pen.

"You can sit anywhere you like and get started on the paperwork!" Wilbur said animatedly. Killian accepted the clipboard with a polite smile and turned back to the room.

A couple of the chairs already had occupants; no one they knew, though. He found that to be a bit of a relief, although he didn't know why. As he made for an empty corner, motion caught his eye. Halting abruptly, he exclaimed in a low voice,

"Bloody hell, Swan; this building has an infestation!"

He crept closer to the sight of insects crawling every which way, and Emma laughed.

"It's an ant farm."

"Ant… farm?" He raised an eyebrow. "What use could anyone possibly find in breeding ants?"

"It's just for fun…"

"Ants are actually quite delicious!" Wilbur added jovially. Killian couldn't decide whether he was joking. Emma rolled her eyes.

"You can watch them through the glass, digging tunnels and stuff. Kind of unusual for a waiting room; most places just have an aquarium. But it fits the theme, I guess."

Killian wasn't sure how, unless the painted animals also used these insects as a food source. He chose seats facing the "ant farm" so he could make sure they really were enclosed inside the glass.

Emma sat in the chair to his right, and he managed to balance the clipboard on his left forearm and hook. He gripped the pen and then flipped through the first few pages with his thumb. There were more than he had expected, and he began to wonder if Emma had actually underestimated the time it would take to complete them all.

The heading on the top page said _Consent for Care and Treatment_ , and it was mostly full of typed words, with a line for his signature at the bottom. A contract, then. He began to read dutifully, but after only the first few lines, Emma whispered to him,

"No one really reads those. Just sign and date."

"Given the nature of my agreements in the past, I generally like to know what I'm getting myself into."

She smiled. "I'll summarize then. You give them permission to know personal information and to do what they think is best to keep you healthy. And you promise not to sue them for touching you."

Killian looked flabbergasted. "Why would I threaten litigation for the performance of the very act for which I sought this man's services?"

"You'd be surprised. In this world, doctors have to have ridiculous amounts of malpractice insurance, and they get sued all the time."

He studied her for a moment longer, then shook his head and scrawled his signature on the line. Like always, Emma took a second to appreciate the beauty of his fancy penmanship. He added the date and then flipped to the next page. More words and a signature line. "Swan?"

"' _Notice of Privacy Practices_ …'" she read aloud. She lifted the page and found this clinic's version of the document, which she pulled from the stack. "We keep this. It tells us how they protect any information they get about you. You sign there to indicate that they gave you this paper."

This he did without further discussion.

Next was a _New Patient Questionnaire_. It started off easy enough, with the current date, his name, and preferred name - he wrote "Killian," Emma noted with love. But then came _Date of Birth._ He used the pen to scratch that place behind his ear. After a long pause, he asked,

"Can I leave it blank?"

"Well… I think they would want you to write _something_. It's one of the ways they differentiate between patients. Not that there are a lot of duplicate names here, but if they somehow… connect your information to another facility. Like, say you were travelling and got sick. If you went to a doctor outside of Storybrooke and they wanted to see your records from here."

"But… I've no idea."

"Make something up," she suggested. "Do you have any lucky numbers or anything?"

He considered briefly before shaking his head.

"Ok, well, let's start with the year. For the sake of your "real world" profile, let's say you're similar in age to me. So that would put it somewhere around 1982, '83."

She grinned when he wrote _1981_. "Sure, whatever you want."

"I think the number one suits me, love. One hand… one hook… in fact, many of my more important and treasured parts are singular."

Emma resisted the urge to slap him. "Careful, buddy; that '1' could very easily become a '0.'"

He responded with only a suggestive smile.

"So, for the month… what's the best month to go sailing?"

"Anytime is a good time for sailing."

"Of course you'd say that. So, what, then?"

"How about we let luck decide?" He pulled a pair of dice from his pocket, and she stared at them in disbelief.

"You just happen to be carrying those around?"

Killian shrugged. "Only because of our last game night with Henry."

She lowered her voice. "Are they your loaded dice?"

"What would be the advantage of that?" he replied, not even bothering to deny that he owned such a pair. "I've already told you I have no preference." He shook the dice gently and then tossed them onto the clipboard, which he had adjusted to lie flat. "A five and a three. August, then."

"Okay, making progress. I can't think how you'll randomly pick a day, though. At least not in a way that gives all numbers an equal chance."

"Let's not make this so complicated. One again, for the one and only Killian Jones. Aye?" He wrote down _The First of August, 1981._

"Whatever floats your boat."

"Ship."

 _Address, Phone Number, Emergency Contact_ , and _Occupation_ were much simpler. _Marital Status_ gave him a happy glow as he ticked off the _Married_ box. Emma, too, grinned, playing gently with the hair on the back of his head. For _Education_ , he chose _High Schoo_ l, as he wasn't sure his Naval Academy training would translate to a college degree in this realm. The questions about _Living Will and Advance Directives_ they elected to discuss at a later date.

 _Allergies_ and _Current Medications_ he could leave mostly blank, although he did write in the vitamin supplement Emma made him swallow each morning.

Next came a long list of conditions with the instruction to " _Check if you have had any of the following_." Many of them he had never heard of. His pen hovered over the box for _Anxiety/Stress._

"Three centuries, most of them not the best of circumstances…" He inscribed an " _X_." The only other condition he decided applied was _Chronic Pain_ , as he still suffered occasional phantom pains in his missing hand, even after all this time.

The next section was _Previous Hospitalizations and Surgeries._ He grimaced, remembering both the physical pain and his mental state at that point in his life. He refrained from writing that he was injured seeking vengeance on the bloody Crocodile, instead opting for the far less dramatic _Hit by a car_. Neither he nor Emma knew the exact date of that incident, but he wrote down an approximation and Emma pointed out that the clinic could call Dr. Whale if they really needed the details. He was about to reply _No_ to the question about blood transfusions, but Emma stopped him.

"Actually, I think you might have, that night. There was a lot going on, but I think I remember hearing Dr. Whale order one."

So he checked _Yes_ , saying,

"What does it matter, anyway?"

"There are a few diseases that can be transmitted through the blood. It's rare to get them from transfusions, though, because they do check donor blood."

Killian nodded absently, about to move on. But Emma stopped him.

"What about when you lost your hand?"

"What of it?"

"I don't know if it would count as a surgery or hospitalization in the modern sense of the word, but it seems appropriate to mention it here."

"I'm not sure a cutlass through the wrist qualifies as surgery in any realm."

"No, but the treatment that followed, maybe?"

His face darkened fractionally; just enough that she could see it, even if no one else could. "I had no treatment, love."

She leaned back and let her hand fall to rub his back. "Seriously?"

"We were never fortunate enough to have a ship's surgeon aboard the Jolly Roger. Most wounds were self-treated, and one either recovered or festered and died. Mr. Smee had the dubious honor of tending any unreachable areas on my person." He sighed. "The abuse that man suffered… It's a wonder I didn't kill him those first weeks in bloody Neverland."

"So he was the one to…" She couldn't quite bring herself to finish.

"The Crocodile's blade made a relatively clean wound, at least insofar as leaving no jagged bone or flesh protruding. With copious amounts of rum forced into me and several of the crew holding me down, Smee was able to tie off blood vessels and seal off the rest using cautery. After he'd bandaged me up, I couldn't be still. I spent the whole of the night stalking the deck, howling my rage and pain to the stars. At some point I became lucid enough to fashion a more primitive version of this." He shifted his brace slightly. "I shoved it on over the bandages. It was excruciating. But it gave me distraction when grief and despair threatened to overtake my sanity. The very next day, we gave Milah a sailor's burial and set sail for Neverland. The Crocodile would very soon find I'd tricked him and stolen the bean, and I couldn't face him again until I'd found a way to destroy him."

"Gosh, Killian, that sounds awful."

"Aye. And the following months were hell. I can't remember all of the atrocities I committed while the pain was still fresh; nor do I wish to. There were weeks and weeks of raging fever: sickness such I have never felt before or since, rivaling my experience in the Underworld, but lasting far longer. I begged for death and yet Hades would not have me. I honestly cannot say why my crew and Mr. Smee kept tending my wound and forcing me to eat and drink. Fear of the consequences of neglect, I suppose. I do know I came out the other end of it lacking a significant number of my men, and truth be told, it is no mystery who brought about their demise."

They were both silent for a long moment. Then Killian sighed and flashed a fake smile.

"Ah well, that was all so very long ago. I suppose the relevant bit is that the wound eventually healed, through a combination of Smee's clumsy ministrations, my own stubborn grip on the idea of revenge, and the passage of time. Such as that was in Neverland."

"Killian… I…"

He silenced her with a caress to her cheek. "It's all right, love. I've been meaning to tell you that story every since the Cricket suggested I should."

He wrote down a terse _Hand Amputation_ in the box, and _Who bloody knows_ in the space for corresponding date. "Moving on. Sleeping habits… that's a bit personal, isn't it?"

"It's not what you're thinking, but yes, they do go there." He smirked sideways at her, and she smirked right back. "It's important to be honest and thorough, though. Just so they know what tests you might need, and if there's any health advice they can give you."

"Do I snore, Swan?"

She kissed his cheek. "Not always."

The number of hours he slept varied greatly depending on the night... and what kind of mood they were in. So he settled for an average of 7.

He self-rated his diet as _Good_ and his weight as _Appropriate,_ commenting,

"This realm has an unhealthy obsession with 'weight.' As long as one feels healthy and is able to enjoy one's desired activities, why should a particular number matter?"

"You've been watching too much TV if you've picked up on that already, but you're right. It's mostly just so bogus fitness 'experts' can sell their products."

At _Do you get regular exercise (describe),_ he smirked, but merely wrote _Calisthenics and other activities._ For his hobbies, he listed _Sailing, swordplay, and reading_ , again leaving off the "hobby" he knew would get him in trouble with Swan.

The next question was _Have you recently traveled outside the country? If so, where?_ He emphatically circled _Yes_ , then wrote, _Every bloody realm imaginable, and not by choice, either._ Emma knew that wasn't the point, but she let it slide. And smiled when he filled in the _Future travel plans_ section with _Sailing with my Swan, no confirmed date as yet._

When he reached the _Lifestyle_ questions, he paused. He settled on one alcoholic and two caffeinated drinks per day, which was probably the correct average for the last month or so. But then he asked,

"Would you consider self-medication with rum to be a 'drinking problem?'"

"Um… I don't know, Killian. You seem to have been able to cut back without much problem. Do you think you'd be able to give it up entirely, or would that be hard?"

"I… can't say for certain. But I never feel I 'need' a drink; at least, not anymore."

"Well, they'll probably check your liver function today no matter what you put down. You can leave it blank if you want, or answer what you think is closest. For the record… I don't think you do."

He smiled at that, and chose _No._ But the next question was just as challenging.

"Oh, Swan," he sighed. "Neverland was… well, it was one disaster after another, to say the least. Even after my wrist had healed, there were a multitude of occasions where I woke with significant gaps in memory. And times with Pan when… mind-altering substances were certainly involved. But it would be impossible to give any detail."

She read the questions he was struggling with, regarding smoking and drug use, and shrugged. "So check ' _Yes_ ,' but make it clear you don't do it anymore. Or add a ' _Maybe_ ' box if you're not sure. You don't have to stress so much about it. What's the most important is your current lifestyle, which I would say is pretty darn healthy."

"You're right, love. It's just… if this is to become a part of my permanent record, I would like it to accurately reflect my history as well as my present state of being."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "You're doing fine, don't worry."

In the end, he opted to report _Yes_ , with a handwritten qualifier of _A long time ago_ in the margin.

Fortunately, he could confidently answer that he did, in fact, wear a seat belt. And definitely _Yes_ to the query about being sexually active. He also knew the correct answer when it asked for more details, but he couldn't help glancing guiltily at Swan. But she only shook her head ruefully.

"It's nothing I don't already know. Or at least, have guessed at."

And so he selected _All of the above,_ and they left it at that.

He had no idea what _HIV/AIDS_ and _STIs_ meant, but based on the context, he could make an educated guess. He'd never had any issues or symptoms that he knew of. And he didn't know what testing for them would entail. But he was trying to make Swan happy, and to be honest, he would also find it reassuring if he knew there was no danger of him infecting her with anything. So he indicated that he would like to have the testing done.

He breezed through the questions on abuse in their relationship and his current mental state, both subjects one hundred percent trouble-free. Then he flipped the page and stifled a groan at the long list of text under _Systems Review_.

"Wasn't there already a section like this?"

Emma skimmed the list and replied,

"That was more like… already diagnosed conditions; these are more… individual symptoms."

Fortunately, it didn't take him long to read through the list of sometimes scary-sounding symptoms, none of which applied to him. He could also skip the _Past Medical Tests and Vaccination History_ section.

Finally, on the last page was the section on _Family History_ that Swan had mentioned. It was true that his immediate family had all died early, before any chronic conditions could be discovered. He clenched his jaw when he realized he could at least fill in their causes of death. _Unknown illness_ for his mother. _Poisoning_ , his brother. And his father… he finally settled on _Violence_ , hoping that was specific enough not to warrant further questioning. Emma squeezed him tight for a moment.

He scrawled another signature at the bottom of the page. And with that, they'd reached the end. For all the hesitations and off-track deviations, they'd still managed to finish with ten minutes to spare.

Killian eyed the ants suspiciously on his way back up to the desk, where Wilbur accepted the clipboard jovially.

"Thanks! I'll let them know you're ready."

He turned to help the next patient, and Killian stepped aside with a polite nod. A few of the faces in the waiting room had changed, but he still didn't recognize anyone, and could be assured of his anonymity. Well, as anonymous as he could be, being married to the savior and as recognizable as he was. As he turned to head back to his seat, an informational plaque caught his eye, and he stopped to peruse it. It seemed the clinic was home to three physicians. There was a husband and wife, Leo and Savannah Taymor, both specializing in "Family Medicine." The third was an eccentric-looking older gentleman with tufts of white hair around his ears and a beard to match. In fact, there was more hair on his face than on his head. His name was Ralph Asante, and his specialties were "Naturopathy and Hypnotherapy." That sounded a little ominous to Killian.

He was just reading their biographies, hook clasped in hand behind his back, when Emma came over to join him. She slid her arm through his.

"Nervous, Hook?"

Adopting his best air of bravado, he scoffed,

"What could I possibly have to be nervous about?"

But as he said it, he realized she might be right. After all, he really had no idea what to expect. His only experience with this realm's medicine, or really any since his naval days, had been that cursed night when he'd taken it upon himself to harm Belle to get to the Crocodile. Needless to say, his memories of his actual treatment were clouded by a hazy mixture of pain, their magic drugs called "painkillers," strangely empty elation that he'd gotten in a blow to his oldest enemy, and the confusing mix of emotions he had experienced whenever Emma was near. Drawing his mind back to the present, he admitted to himself that, yes, he was a bit nervous. But there was no reason Emma needed to know that.

"Perhaps, my love, it is _you_ who are nervous."

He knew her super-power would have picked up on his evasion of the question, but as he'd told her, he was skilled at reading her, too. And he knew there was some anxiety in the way she held him now. Whether it was questioning if Zeus' benevolence had strings attached, or if the Land Without Magic would somehow cause his true age or past lifestyle to catch up with him… she definitely feared bad news, however remote the possibility.

"Come on, Swan; let's go watch the bloody ants. _They_ have nothing to worry about."

 **AN: Dang it, I just watched "The Crocodile" again last night (for the hundredth time, so I don't know why this detail never sank in! I must have been distracted by Killian being so cute.) Smee wasn't technically on the crew until just before they set sail for Neverland. Killian didn't even know his name yet. So I guess this his how I explain it, since I still like the idea of Smee having treated Killian's amputation: I think the crew made Smee do it, in case Killian lashed out in pain/anger. He would take it out on Smee, and since Smee was just a worthless captive, there would be no harm done. Doesn't really explain how Smee knows what to do, but I guess he just lucked out and knew first aid. Whatever :)**


	3. Chapter 3

It was almost quarter past nine when Killian finally heard his name. He turned to see a short, slender man standing near the interior door, holding a folder.

"Killian Jones?" the man repeated.

Killian took a step towards him. "Aye."

"Step right up; right this way; let's get this show on the road," was the enthusiastic reply. Wilbur grinned behind the desk and waved at his coworker. Emma rubbed Killian's back briefly and said,

"I'll be just out here. Good luck." She started back toward a chair.

Killian half-turned back and held out his hand, gripped with a sudden reluctance to go forward alone. "Come with me, love."

She looked surprised. "Really?"

"Aye. You can keep me company. And explain all the strange devices they intend to use." He beckoned her forward, and she gladly joined him. Hand in hand, they approached the man with the folder, who gave a businesslike smile and wave.

"My name is Milton. You can call me Milton. You must be Killian. And you are…"

"Emma," she replied.

"Pleased to meetcha. Now if you would follow me, please."

Milton whirled and pushed the door open, holding it for the pair as they stepped through. His dark, slicked-back hair was about the same length as Killian's. In his earlobes were decorative gadgets that Killian had seen before in his travels, which stretched the skin way beyond its natural shape. They swayed gently each time he moved his head. He spoke with a vaguely familiar accent; perhaps related to those Killian had met in his two journeys to the city of New York?

Milton let them past two closed doors and into a small alcove along the wall that was furnished with two chairs, some sort of platform, and a white, boxy device similar to the computer box in the sheriff's station.

"So, how ya been?" Milton asked conversationally as he pulled a curtain around behind them.

"Fine, thank you. And yourself?"

"Good, good. We're just here to get your vital signs before the doc sees you. So if you'll kindly remove your jacket, boots, and… um…" He eyed the hook somewhat nervously. "Hook?"

Killian complied, handing the hook to Emma for safekeeping before shedding the jacket onto a chair and kicking off his boots.

"And… up on the scale for me."

Killian gave Emma a meaningful glance before stepping onto the platform as indicated. A number came up on the screen before him, which Milton scribbled into the folder. Having not yet gotten accustomed to the realm's system of measurements and conversion factors, the weight number meant nothing to Killian.

"Please, take a seat," Milton said politely, and Killian obeyed. Emma had already settled herself into a chair with his jacket on her lap. "This goes under your tongue," Milton explained as he approached with a small strip of what looked like shiny paper. Killian looked at it dubiously. "It measures your temperature. Open."

Killian opened his mouth and lifted his tongue, and Milton slid the paper in place. "Close."

With his lips holding the paper steady, Killian couldn't ask how on earth that particular invention worked. In the meantime, Milton was setting up the white box. He pulled out a piece of cloth, which was attached to the box via a curly, stretchy cord.

"That's for measuring blood pressure," Emma told him, and he nodded in recognition. That was one thing he _did_ remember from that damn hospital. It would momentarily squeeze his arm, but cause no lasting damage.

Milton glanced between Killian's two arms, predictably going for his right one in the end. Emma helped roll Killian's sleeve past his elbow, and Milton wrapped the cuff around his upper arm. When he pushed a button, the machine started groaning, and the cuff began to tighten. Killian watched his fingers curl slightly of their own accord. What strange physiological response was this?

It kept squeezing his arm harder and harder until Killian began to wonder if these machines were ever known to malfunction. Was there a failsafe if it just kept going to infinity? Would they have to use his hook to tear it off before he lost the use of his good arm? Fortunately, when it reached what must have been a predetermined point, the machine paused, and then the hiss of air told of the slow release of pressure in the cuff. Milton chose that instant to go for the end of the paper strip that still protruded from Killian's mouth.

"Normal temperature," Milton declared as he recorded the results in the folder and discarded the paper. Killian could now see his own name printed on the folder's cover. Glancing at the machine, Milton continued, "Normal blood pressure… and… pulse. Isn't that just great?" Having finished recording all of the numbers, he removed the cuff and then took a breath. "Fabulous. And we're following again, please. Exam room… 6. Right this way."

Killian slipped his feet back into his boots and stood, Emma beside him, still holding his jacket and hook. Milton pulled back the curtain and took a left turn, a right at the end of the hallway, and right again through an open door labeled "Exam Room 6."

"Here we are," he announced. "Come in and make yourself at home."

Immediately to the right of the door were two chairs. Along the right hand wall was a tall, paper-covered table with an adjustable light overhead. On the far wall was another door, a sink, drawers, and cabinets. To their left stood a computer box on wheels, with a wheeled stool beside it.

Milton clicked his tongue in disapproval as the three of them entered the room. "We are _clearly_ not on the ball this morning. Jeez. I apologize. Just give me one second…"

Killian closed the door behind him, while Emma made herself comfortable on one of the chairs and Milton scurried to a lower drawer across the room. Humming tunelessly, he retrieved a pile of fabric, then opened the drawer above the first to remove a small plastic cup. The fabric he tossed onto the table as he stood. Grabbing a pen from a container beside the sink, he began writing something on the label stuck to the cup.

Having had no instructions otherwise, Killian made to go sit next to Emma and wait, rather than continue to hover awkwardly by the door. But he had just started to sit down when Milton held the cup out toward him. Killian straightened and stepped forward to accept the offering.

"Urine sample, please," Milton explained. "Restrooms are at the end of the hallway to your left."

He turned back to the cabinets, and Killian glanced at Emma, bemused. She nodded.

"Yep, you heard right. Go pee in the cup."

"There should be a tray in there by the sink that you can leave the sample on," Milton added without turning around. Emma held out his hook.

"Need this?"

He moved forward and held out his brace, allowing her to reattach the hook. "Thanks love."

"Remember to wash it when you're done," she teased. "And _be careful_ down there."

He winked. "Always."

He could have sworn he heard Milton make a noise of disgust as he left the room in search of the restroom.

In the end, Killian was able to provide the requested sample without making too much of a mess, although the cup wasn't full. But judging by the two other samples on the tray, it didn't appear necessary to fill it. He still couldn't fathom what they would be able to glean from that particular substance. What a peculiar realm.

He carefully situated his cup between his left forearm and chest, then screwed the lid on as best he could. Placing the cup with the others, he washed and dried his hand and hook, then returned to Exam Room 6.

Milton was just leaving through the other door as Killian entered. He stopped and looked back, saying,

"Very nice. Now, get changed, and Leo… I mean, Dr. Taymor will be in shortly." He pointed at the fabric lying on the table. "Everything off but your socks."

With that, he shut the door behind him.

"What do you suppose 'shortly' means, Swan?" Killian asked as he began to strip. "Will they take into account that I may need a bit more time for that than average?"

"Relax, they always make you freeze in here for awhile before coming in. And you have an assistant." She stood to help him with the buttons on his shirt. "Besides, he's going to see you naked anyway."

"Aye, love. I just thought he might want to… ease into it." He unscrewed his hook before wrestling out of his shirtsleeves. She saw the slight hesitation before he began unbuckling his brace. She patted his bare shoulder before moving to help.

They had that bit down to a science by now, so it didn't take long before they could slip off the brace and liberate his stump. Emma carefully arranged the brace on the extra chair before heading to the exam table to retrieve the gown. When she returned to his side, he was just stepping out of his jeans. She unfolded the fabric and held it open so he could slip his arms through the sleeves. He eyed it distastefully.

"Bloody hell, Swan, I think I'd prefer to remain nude."

"Doesn't do much for the ego, huh?"

He slipped into the gown and she went around behind him to tie it closed. "I look bloody ridiculous. At least that damn hospital gave me a robe to go over the rags they put me in."

"Don't worry, Pirate; you're still just as devilishly handsome." She finished the last tie and straightened. He twisted around with his best "smoulder" face.

"Is that a fact?"

"Aye," she retorted. He grinned, and she stepped closer to kiss him. He eagerly reciprocated until she finally pushed him back with a hand on his chest. She looked him up and down before grinning. "It's really not a bad look on you."

He scoffed. Then she continued,

"I think they want your underwear off, too."

"No need to make excuses, love," he taunted. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop her smile. She'd walked right into that one. Killian very slowly reached down and made a deliberate show of removing his underwear.

"I can't believe your mind would _still_ go there, even in a doctor's office."

"Alas, I am only human."

Emma bent to pick up all of his discarded clothing and piled it with the rest of his belongings on the chair. When she looked back, he was watching her, looking forlorn and a little bit lost. Her heart fluttered at the sight. He was sure cute sometimes. She returned to his side and took his hand.

"Sorry if I burst your bubble. But I don't think you'd want to be doing anything when the doctor comes in."

She guided him to the exam table and patted the edge. "He'll want you up here, so you might as well get situated."

"Aye, love." He hopped up and scooted back with a rustle of paper, bare legs dangling off the edge. Emma stroked his knee and then unfolded the paper drape to lay it over his legs. That brought back the teasing indignation.

"What the bloody hell is this? What an impractical excuse for a blanket."

"I think it's more for privacy than warmth." She smiled until she saw him marginally relax. "Speaking of privacy, are you sure you want me to be in here? I could go back to the waiting room once the doctor comes in."

"No, love, stay. I'd like you to stay."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. But if at any point you start to feel uncomfortable, just let me know. I can close my eyes, or leave. I won't be offended."

He looked into her eyes lovingly. "Don't be ridiculous. My Swan. I'd be more inclined to ask the bloody physician to leave."

" _That's_ not gonna happen."

He smirked. But she could see his foot jiggling slightly, and he rubbed absently at the scars on his stump. Stroking a comforting hand along his arm, she decided she would stay next to him until Dr. Taymor came in.

Killian's eyes roamed the room before settling on a tray near the sink, laden with paper-and-plastic-wrapped packages, empty vials, and something like a toothpaste tube. Milton must have set it up while Killian was out of the room. Emma interrupted his musing, and he returned his gaze to her face.

"What would you like for lunch? I know you're already starving. I've always wanted to take you to get sushi. I think you'd like it."

He tilted his head slightly, as if searching for a memory. "Someone once mentioned 'sushi' to me. I think it may have been Ariel. Although I seem to recall her being less than enthusiastic about it."

"Well, it _is_ seafood. She's probably worried about people eating her friends."

He shrugged. "Not likely she has friends in this realm. I'd be happy to try this 'sushi' with you, if you can spare the time."

She thought about it for a second. "You know, you're probably right. We may have to leave town to find it, and I'm not sure about using magic to go _that_ far. So… rain check on the sushi?"

He nodded in assent. Suddenly, he gasped. "I forgot my list!"

"What list?"

"My list of discussion topics for the physician."

Emma was astonished. "You made a list?" She didn't know he'd been preparing so diligently. "What kind of topics?"

"You know. All those ridiculous words from the television box. I'm not sure how one is to keep track of all of the things the voices recommend asking the doctor about."

She looked at him blankly, so he continued.

"You know the ones… I had written them down to aid my memory. Bloody difficult words, they are. Prilosec OTP? Mydoll? Niagara?"

Emma caught on and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Killian, you… those are…"

She stammered to a halt. She really had thought his understanding of this world was improving. She was about to gently explain that you only needed to ask a doctor about certain drugs if you were suffering the symptoms they treated… when there was a flicker behind this look of earnest confusion. A sparkle of amusement. Emma groaned, and his grin broke free.

"Man, you had me going there for a minute! I didn't _think_ you were that gullible! There I was, trying to think of a way to explain it without making you feel stupid!"

He laughed. "It was the perfect opportunity for some fun at my own expense."

"You _do_ watch too much TV," she confirmed with a chuckle. "Niagara. Trust me, you're the _last_ person in the world who needs a prescription for 'Niagara.'"

His smirk was back. "Oh aye? Are my appetites overwhelming you, love? Perhaps there exists a concoction with the opposite effect."

The question was asked in his usual bantering tone, but she could see the genuine concern in his eyes. She knew that he would scale it back if she only said the word. But she only gave a challenging grin in return. "Never."

They heard a child begin wailing elsewhere in the building. Killian's eyes flicked in the direction of the sound. "Someone isn't happy."

"Kids tend to hate doctors. Actually, not many adults are that fond of them, either."

"Let's hope I don't end the encounter making that sound, eh love?"

Before Emma could reply, there was a knock on the door. A heartbeat later, it opened to admit a large, muscular man in a white coat. His shoulder-length, wavy brown hair framed his face, which was round with a broad nose and expressive brown eyes. Killian recognized him from the plaque, though he was somehow more… intimidating in person, despite his polite smile.


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning. I'm Dr. Taymor." His voice was kind. He extended his hand, and Killian shook it.

"Killian. This is my wife, Emma."

Taymor also shook Emma's hand, commenting,

"It's great to meet both of you. My family has heard the stories of all you've done for the town, and I'm glad I get a chance to thank you personally."

"Oh. You're… welcome…" Emma replied uncomfortably. She still had trouble sometimes with the recognition that came with being the savior.

Dr. Taymor strode to the sink and began to wash his hands, glancing at Killian's paperwork as he did so.

"Is it okay if I stay?" Emma asked as she went to take the open chair by the door.

"Of course. No worries." The doctor dried his hands on a paper towel as he continued. "Actually, it can be helpful to have both partners present, to help each other remember and think of questions the other might miss. I'm expecting this to be pretty straightforward, though."

Taymor sat on the stool and woke the computer, which seemed to have Killian's vitals already loaded on the screen.

"So, Killian. Do you have any particular concerns you'd like to address with me today?"

"Ah… well…" he stammered, finding his throat had gone dry. "Mainly just that I'm in good health? Despite my… rather unique history?"

Taymor nodded understandingly. "That's actually not an uncommon request around here. With all of the jumping between realms, curses, heart stealing and everything… let's just say my implanted medical training should have included a course in magic."

Killian smiled weakly. "Aye."

The doctor began to skim through Killian's questionnaire. "So… this part about your birthdate. Tell me about that."

So Killian described how he had cheated death by living in Neverland all those years. "And so, truth be told, I can't even begin to guess my real age."

"But leaving out the stent in Neverland, where time was essentially stopped for you, and the twenty-eight 'frozen' years during the curse, you think you've _aged_ to about…"

"Thirty-five? Give or take?"

"Okay." He flipped a few pages forward, skimmed the _Review of Systems_ page, and went back to the cover page. "And you seem to feel mostly healthy, aside from some stress and chronic pain? Nothing else bothering you at present?"

Killian shook his head.

"Your pain, if I may ask, is it from your hand?"

Killian glanced down at his stump. "Aye."

"How often?"

"Maybe… three to four times per month."

"And how long does it last?"

"Sometimes hours, sometimes a day or two."

"How severe? On a scale of one to ten?"

"It… varies," Killian admitted. "Usually no worse than a six or a seven."

"How do you deal with the pain when it comes?"

"Rum, usually," he replied flippantly, then caught the look Emma gave him out of the corner of his eye. "In the past, anyway. Emma and I have been trying magical relief recently."

"Is it effective?"

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Somewhat." He had not had the heart to tell Emma that her magic wasn't as helpful as she'd hoped. He knew she hated to see him in pain, and only wanted to help.

"That's good. If you ever need more assistance with that, my colleague, Dr. Asante, might be a good resource. You could give him a try."

Killian nodded. "Thank you."

The physician continued to read the answers. "No allergies or current meds… looks like you have pretty healthy habits… no current smoking or drug use?"

"No."

"Good. And you'd like to be tested for STIs today?"

He shifted on the table slightly. "I think… that may be wise. For both our sakes."

Taymor smiled and nodded. "And nothing that you know of in your family history? Heart issues, diabetes, cancers?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Ok, then the only thing left to discuss is immunizations. You're in kind of a unique situation in that you didn't come over with either of the curses, so you weren't granted immunity in that way to the diseases of this realm. And neither were you raised here, like Emma was, to receive the recommended vaccines as a child. So you _are_ susceptible, and with the rise in people electing not to vaccinate their children, some of the diseases are becoming more prevalent. Now, you're likely pretty safe in the confines of Storybrooke, through what we call 'herd immunity.' But if you're ever planning to travel, say, on this sailing trip you mentioned, there _is_ a chance you'd come into contact with a germ you have no resistance to. So it would be my recommendation that you do get immunized today or in the near future. But that, of course, is up to you."

Killian looked over at Emma, who was listening seriously. "What do you say, Swan? If I contracted a disease on an excursion, could you not just heal me?"

She looked uncertain. "Maybe. But… I mean, injuries are one thing. They're… discrete, and I can see where they start and stop. Illness is so… systemic. I'm worried I wouldn't know how to help you."

He gave her a soft smile. "I have every confidence in you, love. But this is about your peace of mind. And for that, I would do anything."

She smiled at him shyly, as if not quite feeling she deserved his devotion. Turning back to Dr. Taymor, Killian said,

"I guess I will be going with your recommendation, then."

"Good. I'll just put in an order and Milton will get them ready for you."

Killian wasn't sure what he'd just agreed to, but he watched the doctor click and type on the computer. Then Taymor stood and stepped toward the exam table.

"Okay. I'm just going to check you out now, all right?"

"Aye."

First, he retrieved a black device from the wall behind Killian. When he pressed a button, a light came on; some sort of electrical torch, then. Killian remembered having Dr. Whale shine one of those lights in his eyes that night- quite painful it was, at the time. Sure enough, that was Taymor's intention as well, although without the concussion and bruised face, the light was more an annoyance than anything else this time around. He had Killian follow the his finger with his eyes, then look at particular spots in the room while he moved the light back and forth in front of them. Finally, he pulled Killian's lower eyelids down and had him look up. As Killian blinked away the resulting tears, Dr. Taymor fiddled with some sort of funnel-shaped attachment and asked,

"Any trouble with your vision? Black spots, dry eyes?"

"No."

"And you can see clearly?"

"Aye."

"Good. Can you look over your right shoulder; I'm going to look in your ears now."

Killian complied, and the doctor grasped his earlobe and gently introduced the plastic funnel into his ear canal. Killian wondered what the inside of an ear looked like.

"Other ear, please."

He turned his head the other way and grinned at Emma, who gave him a little wave.

"That looks good." Taymor removed the funnel and Killian returned his gaze to center. "No hearing loss or ringing in your ears? Ear pain?"

Killian shook his head.

"Tilt your head back for me." He briefly shone the torch into each of Killian's nostrils, then commanded,

"And open your mouth."

He pulled a flat piece of wood from his jacket pocket and pressed it against Killian's tongue. "Say 'ahhh.'"

"Ahh?" Killian managed to make it sound confused, and Emma giggled. The doctor removed the wood and said,

"Lift up your tongue."

Then he took a step back. "Do you have a dentist here in town?"

"Not yet."

"Huh. Well, you have pretty good teeth for a pirate."

"Thanks?"

"Dental care is still important, though. Bad teeth can actually affect other parts of your body, including your heart."

"That's on the list," Emma assured him.

"Good. And you're not a loud snorer?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Do you ever wake up feeling like you've stopped breathing?"

"Only in my nightmares."

Taymor nodded and set the torch on the table at Killian's left side.

"I'm going to feel the lymph nodes in your neck. If they ever swell, it can indicate a problem."

He reached forward and placed his fingers behind each of Killian's ears, pressing firmly but not painfully. Then he slowly ran both hands down the sides of Killian's neck, pausing every few centimeters to make a circular motion. Killian looked straight ahead, not really focusing on anything. He could feel when the doctor's right hand reached the scar from Excalibur. For how dire a wound that had been, the scar it had left was now only barely visible.

When he had reached Killian's collarbone, Dr. Taymor moved his hands closer together and did the same top-to-bottom, circular movement from his jawline downward. He moved to midline and was a little more gentle examining Killian's windpipe, but Killian was still reminded of the countless times a foe had wrapped their hands around his throat with less honorable intentions. The examining hands paused, and Killian was asked to swallow, which he found slightly tricky on demand.

"Everything feels normal so far," Dr. Taymor assured him. "Now let me just listen to your heart and lungs."

He pulled the trademark stethoscope from around his neck. Even Killian could recognize that device. The rubber ends went in the doctor's ears, and he held the circular, flat end in his hand.

"If you would turn sideways on the table so I can reach both your chest and back…"

Killian rotated so he could face Emma. His left leg was up on the table, with the knee bent, but his right still hung off the edge. Again, the sight of Emma brought a smile to his face, which she returned.

"I'm going to loosen the gown on top to give me access to your chest, ok?"

With Killian's consent, the doctor untied the top two ties on the back of the gown and slipped it off his shoulders so it lay gathered around his waist.

"This may be a little bit cold at first," he warned before placing the end of the stethoscope below Killian's left shoulder blade. "And take some nice deep breaths for me, in through your nose and out through your mouth."

Killian obeyed, and the doctor moved the stethoscope to different places on his back and chest. This went on for several minutes before Taymor stepped back.

"Well, your heart and lungs sound great. Let's get that gown back on and at least keep your shoulders warm."

When that was accomplished, he asked Killian to lie down on his back, and he brought a pillow from the edge of the table for Killian to rest his head on. "Now I'll check the organs in your abdomen. Can you raise the gown up to your chest, please?"

As Killian complied, Taymor made sure the drape remained over his legs and hips, leaving him bare from chest down to just above his pelvis.

"Tell me if anything is tender, all right?"

At Killian's nod, the doctor began to push down on different places on his abdomen. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. When that was over, he then moved his hands in a similar pattern, but tapping instead of pushing. Killian was mystified, frankly. But the physician seemed to be listening intently, so he didn't want to question the diagnostic value of his actions. After a few moments, Taymor used his stethoscope to listen to several areas. When he was satisfied, he returned the device to its place around his neck.

"There's just a few more lymph nodes for me to check before we sit you back up, in your armpits and groin."

He had Killian raise each arm in turn as he pressed into the flesh of his armpits and down the side of his chest. This he did over the gown. But for the "groin" nodes, he discreetly lifted the drape a bit and tucked his hands beneath, reaching into the inside of his hip joint. This he did on both sides, being extra careful not to touch anything else unintentionally. Killian raised an eyebrow at the ceiling, feeling a little weird, to be honest. Then Taymor stepped back and announced,

"All of that was just fine. You can go ahead and sit back up."

Killian brought the gown back down over his stomach as he sat, turning once more to dangle both legs off the table. Taymor approached with what looked like a small carpenter's hammer in his hand.

"This is just to test your reflexes," he explained before folding back the drape so that Killian's knees and lower legs were visible. The pirate wondered briefly if he was expected to try and catch the tool or something, but then the doctor used it to tap on his knee, and his leg jerked of its own volition.

"Bloody hell," exclaimed a startled Killian. "Sorry. Why did that happen?"

"It has to do with your nervous system. It's a reflex that helps with balance." He repeated the test on the other side, and Killian grinned in wonder.

"There are other spots that work the same, but not quite as dramatically." He demonstrated on Killian's Achilles tendon, which caused a twitch in his foot. Then he stood and grasped Killian's right arm. A strike on his forearm caused his hand to lift slightly on the thumbward side, and one to the elbow contracted one of the muscles in his upper arm.

"Fascinating, to be sure," Killian remarked as Taymor repeated the elbow test on his left arm. "But what use is this?"

"It's just a test of your neurological function," Taymor replied. Killian noted he did not attempt the lower-down strike point on his stump. The doctor set his hammer down, saying,

"Do you mind if I take a quick look?"

Killian shrugged. "If you like. Although you're a bit too late to do anything about it."

"No, no, I was just wondering if there were anything I could do to help with the phantom pains." He gently rubbed the scars and the flesh above them. He pressed against the ends of the bones and felt the pulse beneath the skin. "Is any of this hurting you?"

"No. That pain is long since gone."

"That's good." He released Killian's stump gently. "Well, like I said, Dr. Asante may be able to help you if you ever need it."

Killian nodded.

"Moving on, can you stand for me, and close your eyes?"

Killian slid off the table and shoved the drape in a pile at the pillow end. Feeling slightly foolish, and extra alert after so many decades in danger, he shut his eyes.

"I'm going to give you a few gentle shoves, just keep your eyes closed and do your best to keep your balance."

It really wasn't much of a challenge, especially after having been warned it was coming. Killian shrugged the test off as another of this realm's oddities.

"Good. You can open your eyes again."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This is the more graphic/sensitive chapter. If you're squeamish about normally-hidden body parts, you might want to skip this one :)**

With that, the doctor went to the counter near the sink and retrieved the tray that Killian had noticed earlier. He set it on a small cart with wheels, which he rolled next to the exam table, as well as a small trash receptacle that he situated beneath the tray stand. As Taymor pulled on a pair of gloves, Killian took a closer look at the variety of packages and vials labeled with his name, which seemed to be color coded. He glanced over at Swan for reassurance.

"This all might look a little intimidating," Taymor began. "But it will be over before you know it." He selected one of the packages and opened one end. "This is one part of the STI testing. We'll also check a sample of your blood."

He carefully removed what resembled one of the cotton-tipped sticks that Emma had in their bathroom at home. Killian saw that the proper term was "swab."

"I'm going to touch this to the back of your throat. It might make you gag or cough. Open wide for me."

Sure enough, Killian reflexively gagged when the cotton touched his throat, but the sensation passed quickly. Dr. Taymor broke off and discarded the bottom end from the swab, careful to avoid touching the tip, and sealed it within its vial.

When that was completed, Taymor sat on his stool, saying,

"Great. Now I'll need to swab and then examine your genitals. Can you lift the front of your gown for me?"

With a slight smirk in Emma's direction, Killian complied. He felt the cold air on his exposed privates. He wasn't particularly embarrassed by the doctor's visual inspection, just a little bit… awkward.

Taymor selected and opened another, smaller package. Inside was a strong-smelling cloth. "This will clean off any skin bacteria that can affect the test results. It will feel cold for a moment."

Killain only nodded, and he watched the physician gently take hold of his penis with his left hand, then wipe its tip with the cloth. There was definitely a cold sensation down there.

Taymor discarded the cloth into the trash and then reached for one of the swabs, which he had already opened but left inside the package. He allowed Killian to see it, saying,

"This one is smaller than the ones we used for the oral swabs. It needs to go about this far inside your urethra."

He indicated a length of about two centimeters, carefully avoiding touching the swab. Killian swallowed and nodded.

"It might smart a little bit. Just try and stand still."

Killian took a breath and clenched his jaw. His hand gripped his gown tightly. Taymor again took hold of his penis and lifted to view the urethral opening. Then he gently inserted the swab to the proper depth and gave it a slow twist. Killian gave a slight grimace at the burning sensation, but focused on breathing and remaining still. Taymor removed the swab and secured it in its vial, then retrieved a second.

"Just one more."

Killian closed his eyes this time, trying to picture the horizon at sea to take his mind off the discomfort. But he still felt it as the swab entered the tip of his penis, twisted inside him, and then was finally removed. He opened his eyes again, and the doctor smiled encouragingly.

"You did fine. You all right?"

"Aye, I think I'll live."

Taymor nodded and screwed the vial lid on tightly. When he'd set it aside, he swiveled the stool to again face Killian's groin. "Now I just need to check for any lumps or hernias."

He grasped Killian's penis, using both hands this time. He gently slid back the foreskin to inspect underneath, then palpated along the shaft to the base. He lifted it to check the skin underneath. Then he turned his attention to Killian's testicles. He carefully squeezed and pushed against each one in turn; not quite hard enough to cause serious pain, but firmly enough that Killian had to fight the instinct to draw back for protection.

When that was done, Taymor pushed his hand firmly up into the crease of his thigh and instructed Killian to turn his head and cough. Bewildered, he obeyed, choosing to look away from Emma this time. As much as he loved seeing her face, and didn't mind her looking at him - although the circumstances were hardly ideal at present- it just felt like it would be weird to meet her gaze just then. At the very least, he didn't want to fake-cough at her. The doctor changed his hands to the other side and had Killian cough again.

Finally, Taymor removed his hands, saying,

"All done. Everything seems normal."

Killian felt like saying, _I could have told you that myself, mate_. But he held back on the snark and settled for,

"Good."

"Just two more swabs and one more exam, and I'll be all done with you. If you would turn around and rest your forearms on the table, please."

It wasn't hard to guess the physician's intention, and Killian froze for an instant. No one had touched him there in a _long_ time. Not even he and Swan had gone that far.

"Oh, bloody hell," he breathed as he forced himself to obey. He briefly considered asking Emma to look away, but that would be awkward and a bit prudish at this point. Besides, it wouldn't make it any less uncomfortable for him even if she weren't watching.

He heard a few more packages being ripped open, along with a loud click and a squirting sound. He didn't dare look back, or he might lose his resolve completely.

Seeing as the gown tied in the back, it was already hanging open. But he felt Dr. Taymor undo the bottom-most tie and arrange the gown to the sides, completely exposing Killian's backside. Killian heard the wheels on the stool as the doctor positioned himself behind his patient.

"Widen your stance a bit," Taymor instructed, and Killian reluctantly shifted his feet so they were a little bit beyond shoulder distance apart.

"Good. Now you're going to feel me touch you…"

Killian felt a hand on each buttock, and then Taymor was spreading them apart, presumably inspecting his anus. Killian let his forehead drop onto his forearms, attempting to steel himself for what was to come.

"I'm going to insert a swab now. It doesn't go in much farther than the urethral swab did. Just try and relax, and keep breathing."

Taymor released his grip for a moment, then seemed to spread Killian's buttocks with one hand. Killian took a sharp breath when the swab briefly touched his anus before being gently inserted into his rectum.

The swab was slender but dry, and there was a small twinge of pain along with the discomfort. The physician moved it inside him to touch the walls of the rectum, and Killian's sphincter convulsed in protest. Taymor held it in place for several long seconds before finally withdrawing the swab. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Killian heard the now-familiar snap of the handle being broken off and then the faint noises of the vial being tightened. Then there was the rustle of packaging, and he tensed. He was hoping he had heard wrong.

"One more swab, Killian," Taymor warned before once again spreading his buttocks. Killian felt the second swab being inserted through his anus, and he couldn't help squirming a bit in a futile attempt to relieve his discomfort.

"I'm sorry; I know it's uncomfortable. But it's almost over," the doctor soothed.

Killian took some deep breaths as the swab moved inside him, struggling to fight the reflexive tightening of his sphincter. Clenching only made it feel worse, but he couldn't help it.

Finally, the doctor straightened the swab and gently pulled it out. Killian wiped sweat from his forehead and started to stand, but Taymor said,

"I just need to do a rectal exam, _then_ we'll be done."

With a sigh, Killian got back into position, face aflame. Once Taymor had finished securing the swab and fiddling with his tray, he turned back to Killian.

"I'm going to insert my finger and just check for any abnormalities. I've put on some lubrication so it will slide in easier, but it might be a tad cold at first. Are you ready?"

"Aye," Killian mumbled into the table.

"Just take some nice breaths and try to push against my finger."

Taymor gripped Killian's left buttock and moved it aside. Killian jumped a little when he felt a cold substance touch his anus. The examining finger pressed against the opening for an instant, then smoothly entered his rectum.

A small grunt escaped Killian's throat as he attempted to take the doctor's advice and push against the intrusion. It did slide in easier than the swab, but it was also much thicker, so the discomfort was worse overall.

From her seat near the door, Emma had a clear view of the proceedings. She would never characterize Killian as anything near 'bashful.' But at that moment… he had his forehead resting on his forearms, and he appeared to be squeezing his eyes closed. It was probably down to his perception of utter vulnerability at that point that he appeared to be so uncomfortable. Or was he fighting off bad memories? As she watched, he seemed to unconsciously raise up slightly on the balls of his feet, as if he were considering crawling up the table to escape. She could feel her face warm and hear heart beat faster- she was getting aroused watching her husband's prostate exam. That wasn't normal… was it?

Killian, on the other hand, wasn't having nearly as much fun. The damn physician seemed intent on probing every square centimeter within his reach. The examining finger moved inside him, twisting this way and that as it neared the exit, only to be shoved back in at a different angle. Each time he could feel his body tensing, his anus contracting desperately at the intrusion.

"Relax," the doctor coached again. Easy for _him_ to say.

At that point, the finger contacted a spot that seemed somehow to be connected with Killian's genitals, and the sensation would have almost been pleasurable, except that Taymor then had to palpate that area particularly thoroughly. He felt his way along the area several times, finger rhythmically sliding deeper and shallower until Killian felt he could no longer bear it. He was about to abandon his last shreds of dignity and plead with Taymor to end the examination when finally… _finally_ … the physician withdrew his finger.

Killian let out a shaky breath and rubbed at his eyes, hoping desperately that it really was over. He could still feel his sphincter pulsing in memory.

"You can stand up now," Taymor informed him. "We're all done."

Killian straightened with relief and hesitantly turned to face the doctor, who handed him a wad of tissues.

"Go ahead and clean yourself up," he instructed. Killian awkwardly used the tissues to wipe at the slime between his buttocks. The physician seemed to be wiping a… residue from his gloved finger onto some sort of card, and Killian shook his head. This realm was bloody _mental_.

When he was finished, Dr. Taymor removed his gloves, tossed them in the trash, and looked up at Killian with a smile. "Not so bad, huh?"

Killian could only give a weak smile in return. Taymor held up the trash so Kilian could dispose of the tissues, and then he brought both trash and tray full of samples over to the counter by the sink.


	6. Chapter 6

As he washed and dried his hands, Taymor said,

"Well, everything seems very normal. It will take awhile to get results back from the lab, but I don't anticipate any major issues." He returned to stand in front of Killian. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"I… not that I can think of, no." Killian glanced over at Emma, who shook her head.

"All right. Well, it was great to meet you both. Keep up the healthy habits and you should be just fine."

He held out his hand, and Killian shook it hesitantly, trying not to think of where that finger had been just moments before. Taymor went over to Emma, who also shook his hand.

"Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure." He headed toward the other door, saying, "Milton or Percy will be in shortly to take care of your bloodwork and vaccinations. Have a good rest of your day."

Killian nodded a polite smile at him as he left. Emma was right. He probably would _not_ enjoy seeing the man in a casual setting.

Emma watched Killian stare at the closed door as he leaned against the exam table. He still looked a little bit shell-shocked.

"Okay there, Pirate?" she asked gently. He seemed to shake himself out of it and pull on his accustomed cockiness. He turned to look at her with a too-bright smile.

"The picture of health, I am. You satisfied, Swan?"

She returned his smile with one of her own. "Almost."

He raised an eyebrow. Then he held out his stump for her, and she got up and went to cuddle against his shoulder.

"I'm glad everything is ok," she murmured.

"Aye." He nuzzled his face against her hair. Then he pulled back just a fraction, teasing tone back in his voice. "You might have warned me, you know."

She shrugged. "I didn't know for sure he was going to do _that_. Besides, would it really have helped to know ahead of time that it was coming?"

He considered this. "You… may have a point there."

Then it was her turn to tease. "And, well, now you know what to expect next year."

"Next ye… bloody hell."

Emma rubbed a comforting hand up and down his arm, and she could feel him relax again into her embrace. They snuggled for a while, then a knock sounded and a stranger entered the room.

"Good morning," greeted the newcomer. "My name is Percy. Very pleased to make your acquaintance… ah… Killian, is it?"

He spoke with the most supercilious tone and accent that Killian had ever heard, rivaling even the likes of the Admiralty of the Royal Navy. When he looked from the plastic box he carried to Killian's face, Percy tilted his head back to gaze down a massive nose.

"That's right."

"And I'm Emma."

"Pleasure." Percy gathered the vials from the tray by the sink and set them in one of the compartments of his box. The box had a handle on top, and pull-out drawers underneath. It looked quite complicated. Percy set the now-cleared tray back on top of the wheeled cart, and his box on top of the tray. He wheeled the whole set up to Killian's side. "If you would be so kind, sir, as to hop up on the table? I am here to collect a blood sample."

Killian extracted himself from Emma's arms and slid up onto the table.

"Can I sit next to him?" Emma asked. Percy looked down his nose at her as he replied,

"If you wish, madam."

Killian smiled down at her and she climbed up to join him. He curled his left arm around her waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder and put one arm behind his back and one hand on his thigh. Killian watched as Percy selected several vials based on a print-out he had lying next to his box.

"Will you verify your date of birth, please?"

Killian repeated the fake date they'd created, and Percy nodded.

"And you are fasting, correct?"

"Aye."

"Are you one hundred percent sure, Killian?" Emma broke in gently. "You wouldn't want them to have to redo this."

"Aye, love. I give you my word as a reformed scoundrel."

"Excellent." With that, Percy went to wash his hands and pull on some gloves, then returned and opened a plastic package of clear tubing. This he attached to a T-shaped instrument. A needle, Killian realized, with strange plastic pieces protruding from its base.

Percy readied a few more pieces of equipment and then turned to Killian. "Your arm, please."

Killian held up his right arm. Percy wrapped a stretchy cord of some sort around his bicep. He tied no knot, just wrapped one end underneath the other, and because of the cord's nature, it held the same amount of pressure as was intended. Next, Percy tore open another wet cloth and used it to scrub at the crook of Killian's elbow. The substance had a strong smell that made Killian's nostrils flare.

Percy handed Killian a spongy toy. "Squeeze this five times and then hold your fist clenched."

As Killian complied, Percy retrieved the pillow from the end of the table and set it on top of Killian's legs so he could rest his arm on it. Then he began to push on the crook of Killian's elbow with his fingers. He found whatever he was feeling for slightly off-center. He held his finger there as he grabbed the needle from the tray and expertly flicked the cap off one-handed. Killian could appreciate the skill.

"Do keep breathing," Percy instructed. "And try and warn me if you're going to pass out."

"I'll be fine, mate," Killian assured him. "Just get on with it."

Percy shrugged, unoffended. Killian watched the needle bite into his skin, and felt a slight ache in the crook of his arm. Blood flowed into the attached tubing, and he could feel its warmth where it rested on his skin.

Percy held the needle in place while he attached one of the vials to the other end of the tube. It filled in seconds, and he popped it off to replace it with another. Somehow, the flow of blood was contained during the transfer; another marvel of this realm's "technology." Percy inverted the blood-filled vial several times before placing it upright in a specially designed stand. As he replaced the second vial with a third, there was a knock on the door and Milton scurried in with a tray in hand.

"Hiya!" he greeted. "Just dropping these off." He set the tray on the edge of the table. Killian noted five needle-tipped vials resting there.

"Those all for me, mate? You're too kind."

Milton looked sheepish for an instant. Then he turned back to the door, earlobes swinging frantically. "Gotta run!"

Percy calmly switched vials again, completely ignoring the interruption.

"Bloody hell, Swan; your psyche is high-maintenance."

"But worth it?" she asked hopefully. He looked back at Milton's tray and pretended to consider. "What's the matter, Pirate? Afraid of a few needle pokes?"

He moved his arm slightly to indicate his tattoo, which made Percy squawk in protest. "Does it look like I fear needles? Doesn't mean I bloody like it." But then he sighed. "Aye, love. Worth all this and more."

She sat up straighter to kiss his cheek, feeling slightly guilty as she did so. He was right; five shots _was_ a lot all in one day. She had some serious reciprocation to make. Definitely the rest of the day off. Among… other things.

"Touching," Percy remarked stiffly. He pulled the last vial from the tubing and reached for a cotton ball. Placing the cotton over the needle, he smoothly pulled the needle from Killian's arm and dropped it and the tubing into a red plastic box on the tray. "Hold pressure here, if you please."

Killian shifted to try and free up his left arm, wondering briefly how effectively he could hold the cotton ball in place with his stump. But Emma quickly reached up and took over the task. He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, love."

Percy cleaned up his equipment and stuck labels onto each of Killian's blood samples. Then he opened the invention known as a "Band-Aid" and secured the cotton ball with it. It was adorned with drawings of insects, and Killian rolled his eyes.

"Bloody ants again."

As Percy removed his gloves and washed his hands, another child began screaming down the hall. Killian winced as he murmured,

"I know how you feel, mate."

Percy collected all of his gear and made his dignified way to the door, pausing only to say,

"Good day."

They weren't alone for long. Milton came rushing back in and made straight for the sink. "Sorry, sorry; running a little behind here."

He slipped on gloves before whirling to check his tray. Slapping a hand to his forehead, he muttered,

"I can't believe it. Again with the Band-Aids."

He began frantically digging through the cabinets and drawers near the sink. As he did so, Emma spoke up.

"So… I was thinking… that seems like a lot for one day. Would it be better to spread them out a little bit?"

"Honestly, that's completely up to you. They'll be as effective either way. Option 1, you get them all today, have sore arms for a couple of days, and come back in a month for the boosters. Option 2, you get, say, three today, come back in two weeks for the other two, two weeks later for the first three boosters, and two weeks after _that_ for the second two boosters. Seems like a lot of unnecessary visits and sore arms. But like I said, up to you. Ah ha!"

He triumphantly produced a box of Band-Aids from the very back of one of the drawers. Milton looked at the box, looked at Killian, back to the box, and grimaced.

"Swan, what the hell are 'boosters?'"

"You… have to come in for a second round of shots for some of them. To make them more effective. Sorry." She made a sympathetic face. "Maybe later you can read up on immunity and how vaccines work."

Milton held up a finger. "Actually… you're absolutely right yes, education is always a wise choice. It's just that… all five of these will need a booster in four weeks. Just saying."

Killian made a face; part exasperation, part weariness. "Let's just get this whole bloody business over and done with. Five now, five in four weeks, and never again. Aye?"

Meekly, Milton corrected him. "Well, technically… three of them need an additional booster six months after the first." He saw Killian's unamused expression and hastened to brush aside what he'd said. "But that's _ages_ away, why worry about it? Am I right?" He gave a nervous giggle and then pulled a handful of Band-Aids from the box. He tossed the pile onto the tray, which he brought to set on the cart Percy had conveniently left in place.

"Just out of curiosity," Emma asked. "What are they all?"

Milton rattled off a bunch of letters and words, none of which were familiar to Killian, as he pointed to each vial. "MMR, TDap, Varicella, Polio, and HepA/B."

"Could they not be combined into one?" Killian asked. Milton tore open one of those wet cloths they liked so much and replied,

"A lot of these are already combinations of several. I don't honestly know why they don't make a combination of all of them; maybe they'd be less effective?" He reached up and began scrubbing at Killian's right upper arm. "No allergies, right? Latex, thimerosal, eggs…?"

"No." Eggs?

"Okey-dokey. So. Three in one arm, two in the other… you choose."

"Does it look like I've a bloody preference?"

Milton shrugged, picked up one of the vaccines, and removed the cap from the needle. Emma stroked her hand up and down Killian's back, and he began to regret the outburst. He hadn't meant to be harsh. Milton gripped Killian's upper arm with one hand, and Killian was about to apologize, but then Milton paused.

"You… won't come get me in my sleep for this, will you?"

Equal parts amused and irritated, Killian adopted his Hook persona. "Glad to hear my reputation is still intact."

Milton shifted anxiously, needle still hovering centimeters from Killian's skin. "So… that's a… yes?"

"I might, if you continue to delay!"

Milton gave a nervous titter and then stabbed the needle into Killian's arm. It was small and sharp enough that it barely stung, but the muscle underneath immediately began to ache where the liquid was collecting. Milton removed the needle and set the empty vial on the tray, opening a Band-Aid and applying it over the sore spot. He seemed to be trying to hide the design, and it was too high up on Killian's shoulder for him to see clearly without being obvious about it. As Milton uncapped the next needle, Killian began in an appeasing tone,

"You know, real life can be quite different to those bloody films."

Milton poked the needle several centimeters below the first Band-Aid, replying,

"It's funny you should say that."

"What do you mean?"

As Milton covered the second injection site, he noticed the insect-adorned Band-Aid at the crook of Killian's elbow. "That little thief!" he muttered. Meanwhile, Killian had rotated his arm enough to finally see the new drawings stuck to his skin, and he groaned.

"Bloody Tinkerbell, mate?!"

"That's all I could find!" Milton protested. "You saw me! Percy stole the good ones!" Killian could feel Emma trying desperately to control her giggles.

"But why is this establishment promoting such lies?!"

Wet cloth in hand, Milton moved to Killian's other side. Killian shifted around Emma to give him better access to his left arm.

"The kids like them?" was all Milton could say. He wiped Killian's shoulder liberally.

"That Disney fellow has a lot to answer for," Killian muttered.

Milton rolled the tray closer and selected another vial. "Are you feeling ok so far?"

"Aye. No thanks to these bloody ridiculous bandages."

Milton smiled weakly. Grasping Killian's shoulder, he said,

"Can you try and relax this muscle here?"

Killian loosened his grip on Emma, who was sitting quite still to avoid jostling his arm. He sat in stoic silence for the third injection. Then he sighed, his indignation fading.

"What about your own movie, then? Is it any closer to the truth?"

Milton flicked the cap off the fourth vial. He smiled. "Not bad, I have to say. My own characterization is a little over the top, though."

"I don't know, mate; seems pretty spot-on to me."

The other man jammed the needle in with maybe slightly more force than necessary.

"Wait," Emma broke in. You know who he is?"

"Aye, love," Killian said with a grimace. "Don't you?"

She carefully tilted her head to look up at him. He found he quite enjoyed being the one to understand a reference that she didn't.

"Last one!" Milton announced.

"About time, too."

Emma reached for his hand and squeezed it, and he found he barely felt the last needle stick. Milton quickly slapped a Tinkerbell Band-Aid over the spot and then gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Ice and heat will work wonders, and I'd take an Advil when you get home. Oh, and I recommend using those muscles, even if they're sore. It helps the inflammation go down sooner." He stepped back and reached into his pocket. "Lollipop?"

Killian saw that the treat being offered was a locust encased in colored, crystallized sugar. On another day, he may have been adventurous enough to try it, but with his empty stomach, it did not appeal. "Think I'll pass."

"It's delicious!" Milton tempted.

"Tell that to Archie, mate."

Milton shrugged, put the candy back in his pocket, and began clearing away his equipment. "My buddy Wilbur will give you information sheets on each of the vaccines you got today. The main thing to watch out for his any swelling of your throat, high fever, changes in your level of consciousness, and/or seizures. Any questions?"

Killian shook his head.

"Well, then, I'll see you in a month."

"Aye. That you will," Killian agreed in resignation.

Milton headed for the door. "On to the next one. See you two lovebirds around. Buh-bye!"  
After he'd gone, Emma gently extricated herself and looked into Killian's face. "Still can't place him."

"Give it time, love. You'll get it."

She slid to the floor. "You ready to get out of here?"

"More than." He hopped down next to her and pulled her into another embrace. "Thanks for the cuddles."

"Any time." She wandered over to the chairs and gathered his clothes for him. As she piled them on the exam table, she made a small noise of frustration. "Ugh, why can't I figure it out?"

Killian only grinned secretively, pulling his underwear from the tangle of fabric.

"If I… _when_ I do, want to watch the movie again? To see if we can recognize him in it?"

Gingerly, Killian pulled his underwear into place. Then he grimaced. "You could offer to pay me all the treasure in all the realms, and I still wouldn't willingly see those hands again, in any context."

"Whose hands, Milton's?"

"Bloody Taymor."

"He's in it too?"

"Aye. I'd wager the whole building is." Killian struggled to pull on his jeans with one stiff and sore arm. Emma looked lost in thought.

"Huh. Maybe I _will_ come here for my physical."

Killian's eyebrows went up.

"To the other Taymor, I mean. Sierra, or whatever."

"Savannah," he corrected. Then he smirked. "For an examination of your lady parts?"

Emma swatted his arm. Gently, but it still hurt.

"Careful, Swan. I'm wounded."

She gave the most exaggerated eye roll he'd ever seen from her. "You can't guilt me. I've had my shots. I know what it's like."

Finally finished with fastening his jeans, Killian made a pitiful expression. "Will you help me with these ties? My one good arm is paining me."

She groaned as he turned to give her access. "This is going to be a long day, isn't it?"

She quickly untied him and the gown slipped to the floor. Emma couldn't help another giggle at the pink Tinkerbell Band-Aids littering his upper arms. He groaned.

"Bloody Disney," he muttered. Then the pitiful face was back. He stepped forward, rubbing gingerly at his left shoulder. "I've had a rough morning, love. Do you know what would make me feel better?"

"I can only imagine."

He smirked. "Promise me I can accompany you."

"Where?"

He lifted his eyebrow, and she knew.

"To my physical?"

"Aye, love."

She choked back a laugh at the look in his eyes. But she managed to coach herself into a stern expression. "I came with you for moral support, not to be a pervert."

"What's so perverse about enjoying the sight of my wife's beautiful body? Can you blame me if I 'd like to be there when she shows it off?"

"'Cuz that's _exactly_ the vibe of the doctor's office."

"Are you telling me you didn't enjoy one moment of this morning's exhibition?"

She felt her face flush. This elicited a knowing grin. Rolling her eyes, Emma gave in. "Fine. I'll _think_ about it."

"That's all a man can, in good conscience, ask."

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then said,

"Finish getting dressed. I'll go make an appointment for your boosters. Meet you up front."

Killian resisted the urge to groan at the thought of coming back to this place. He'd done enough complaining that morning, playful or otherwise. So he simply said,

"Thank you, love."

It took him awhile to strap on his brace and button his shirt. All teasing aside, his arms _did_ feel like he'd spent a night sailing the Jolly solo in a storm. By the time he'd made it to the waiting room, Swan was seated in a chair near the door, studying a stack of papers. She glanced up and grinned as he approached. He returned the smile and opened the door for her. He heard Wilbur call out after them,

"See you later, Captain!"

Killian waved politely. He tried not to notice the heads that turned to stare at him. It was definitely time to go.

Emma stepped into the sunny day with Killian close behind. He held the door until she'd cleared it, her eyes still skimming the vaccine info sheets Wilbur had given her. She didn't notice that Killian had fallen behind until he called,

"Swan! Get us home now, love."

She whirled, instantly concerned that he was having one of the severe side effects listed… only to see him pulling on a latex glove with his teeth. He met her gaze with his most wicked smile.

"I have an idea."

 **AN: The End! If anyone wants to write a sequel, feel free ;) Thanks to all the brilliant authors I've read in the past few months, and people who posted on tumblr, etc. I know I got a few ideas off of some of you (like the immunity stuff and what Hook was like right after he lost his hand.) I wouldn't know where to find the posts to give proper credit, though. Also thanks to killian-whump on tumblr and those who have posted encouraging things to fellow whumpers. I would have never had the courage to share this story without all of you!**


	7. Epilogue

**AN: Don't get too excited; just a short little epilogue. Did you figure it out before Emma did?**

Epilogue

Three days later, and the ache had finally started to subside from Killian's arms. He and Emma walked toward the Rabbit Hole, intent on unwinding after a long day at the sheriff's station. Suddenly, Killian heard a familiar song.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed, slowing. Emma looked at him strangely, then snapped her fingers.

" _Lion King_!"

"Finally got it, love? What gave it away?"

Stumbling out of the tavern's front door came Milton and Wilbur, arm in arm, singing at the top of their lungs.

" _Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase_ …"

Killian had half a mind to do an about-face, but Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

"Hey, guys!" she called.

"Sheriff Swan! And Captain Hook, my old buddy. How ya been?"

They halted in front of the inebriated pair, with Emma grinning from ear to ear.

"Timon! And Pumbaa!" she said.

Milton did a little bow and Wilbur nodded his head enthusiastically.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you guys earlier!"

With a shrug, Milton reassured her,

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Sheriff. I do miss the handsome fur coat from time to time, but I've been told I'm easily as attractive in this body. Just not nearly as recognizable."

Emma grinned. "What are you two up to tonight?"

"Oh, you can usually find us at one watering hole or another on a Friday night. We decided to give this one a try."

"But now we're off to rustle up some grub," Wilbur added.

"Don't worry, though; the rest of the gang is inside!" Milton turned his attention to Killian. "How are the old arms, bud?"

He motioned as if to clap Killian on the shoulder, but then glanced down at his hook and thought better of it. Killian pasted on his most fake smile.

"Good as new, mate."

"Glad to hear it."

"Wait," Emma interjected. "Didn't Simba and Nala have a cub at the end of the movie?"

"Kids are off at a slumber party tonight," Milton explained. "Mom and Dad have gotta get out once in awhile, you know?"

"Milton, I'm hungry!" whined Wilbur. Milton patted his friend's arm in acknowledgement.

"Well, see ya around!" he intoned brightly. Then they stumbled off together, starting the chorus all over again. Killian stepped between Emma and the door, wearing an appeasing smile.

"You know, Swan, I suddenly find myself quite exhausted after the day's patrolling. What say we find a more sedate establishment in which to spend the evening?"

With a sly smile, Emma replied,

"Come on, I have to see them now that I know who they really are!"

"They're just the same as they were before."

"Yeah, but I didn't know what to watch for before!" She grinned at him naughtily. "Come on. He's not gonna make you drop your pants in the middle of the bar."

"You can never be sure what a man will do under the influence of strong drink," Killian muttered darkly.

"We can just spy on them from the corner," she wheedled. Killian tilted his head.

"Please, love. Eavesdropping on innocent conversation is very bad form," he scoffed.

She seemed to give in then. "Oh, fine. But Storybrooke is pretty small. I doubt you'll be able to avoid them forever."

"I love a challenge." He turned to leave. "So… Tony's?"

Then he realized she was not beside him.

"Swan? _Swan?"_

 **AN: _Lion King_ is my favorite Disney animated feature :) I also considered using characters from _Lady and the Tramp_ , since they're canonically residents of Storybrooke, but in the end decided to go with my faves. Leo Taymor is Simba, Savannah is Nala, Percy is Zazu, Dr. Asante is Rafiki, Milton is Timon, and Wilbur is Pumbaa. **

**Also, fyi, I've been working on a much longer fic with a lot more real whump in it! I'm hoping to finish and publish before the end of the summer, so stay tuned!**


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